


(Un)Dressed to the Nines

by antigrav_vector



Series: Assorted Gift Ficlets [13]
Category: Captain America (MCU), Iron Man (MCU), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Blowjobs, Crack, Dream Sequence, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Fluff without Plot, Humour, Lingerie, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Smut, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tony POV, ignores all movie canon to just play with the characters instead, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 11:06:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17120201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antigrav_vector/pseuds/antigrav_vector
Summary: As it turns out, Tony's subconscious is just as much a genius as he is.A/N - I'm putting this here rather than in the notes so everyone sees it:  This is the second of about ten giftfics that will post to this series over the next 24 hours or so. They come in assorted lengths and pairings, and most are very short little flufflets or crack, though there is a good amount of smut as well and a lot of implied sex. Keep an eye on the tags, if any of this is likely to be an issue for you.





	(Un)Dressed to the Nines

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fynndin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fynndin/gifts), [morphia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/morphia/gifts), [Veldeia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veldeia/gifts), [MassiveSpaceWren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MassiveSpaceWren/gifts), [Muccamukk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muccamukk/gifts), [dapperanachronism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dapperanachronism/gifts), [smolsofa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolsofa/gifts), [ready3x](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ready3x/gifts), [Robin_tCJ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robin_tCJ/gifts), [Amonae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amonae/gifts), [MrDomon](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=MrDomon).



> A giftfic for the Hive Chat. Posted unbeta'ed. Please excuse any remaining errors.
> 
> Here is the list of prompts I was given:  
> Sleepyoceanprince - business wear  
> Morphia - comfortable evening  
> RD3x - Pyjamas  
> Veldeia - arc reactor. ( for "extra difficult" difficulty level, make Tony be the one in pyjamas and whatever other characters are around in business attire )  
> MassiveSpaceWren - secret identities  
> Muccamukk - stockings  
> robin_tCj - heart-pounding  
> dapperanachronism - snow  
> MrDomon - "tired bluntness"? or like. exhausted confession?  
> smolsofa - cooking/sharing a meal
> 
> I actually managed to cram all of them in, even if only one of them turned into the main theme, and I'm proud of myself for pulling that off, lol.

It had been a great evening so far. They hadn't been called out to handle any ridiculous emergencies, which meant he and Steve had finally had a chance to spend an afternoon watching movies on the sofa without interruption. Tony had even allowed himself to do it in his comfortable beaten up shop jeans and a soft, worn t-shirt.

They'd just finished the Matrix trilogy, and Steve had decided that he was hungry. Naturally, Tony had asked JARVIS to order them food, but Steve had vetoed that idea immediately. He wanted to cook, for whatever strange reason. Tony had given him a long look, but shrugged and accepted it. It wasn't a hobby of his, but Steve seemed to enjoy it. They'd spent the next hour and a half in Tony's rarely used kitchen, preparing their meal, then stuffing themselves full. They'd talked, but Tony couldn't seem to remember what they'd said. It hadn't been important.

No, the important bit had been getting to sprawl out over Steve and the sofa, afterwards. They'd gone directly from sitting at the kitchen table to eat to being on the sofa in their pyjamas, and Steve had been very affectionate. He'd played with Tony's hair and produced a blanket out of thin air to throw over Tony, then protested when Tony had tried to insist they should share the blanket.

Now, Tony scowled, irritated, now they were downstairs in the Tower's main venue.

Steve had gotten up to get a glass of water, then come back into to living room in black tie, with Nat and Clint on his heels. Apparently there was a formal event going on downstairs that the team had to attend. He'd followed the others out of the sanctuary of the apartments he shared with Steve, not really thinking about what was happening. Now, here he was, standing around in his pyjamas in a crowd of people dressed to the nines at an event neither Pepper nor JARVIS had told him about, and trying not to mourn his lazy evening in with his boyfriend.

"Tony?"

Speak of the devil. "Yeah, Cap?"

"You alright?" Steve sounded concerned. "You're very quiet, tonight."

"I'm fine," Tony looked up at his lover and smiled. "Just not really feeling this party."

Steve accepted that without much argument, despite the outrageousness of the excuse, but Tony knew there would be consequences. In the media, if nothing else. Tony Stark? Not in the mood to party? That was the opposite of the image he tried to project.

There was a brief pause, not quite a hesitation, before Steve asked his next question. "Tony?"

"Something wrong, Cap?" He couldn't quite stifle the brief jolt of worry that went through him.

"Don't you think you should cover up the arc reactor?" Steve asked him.

Tony looked down at himself in bafflement. Sure enough, there it was, shining reassuringly bright as always, and easily visible through the thin fabric of his pyjamas. But... that wasn't right. He'd had the arc reactor removed last year, after his fight with the Mandarin.

With a shudder, he crossed his arms over his chest a bit defensively. "Better not to draw attention to it now, in that case," he answered, a bit uncomfortable, and stiffly stalked into the crowd to mingle a little.

The night was destined to get even weirder, however. Not long after he'd left Steve's side, Tony stumbled across their other super soldier, trying unsuccessfully to blend in with the crowd of well-dressed people. Barnes was dressed to kill, himself, but his hunched shoulders and glass of orange juice stood out quite a lot when everyone else was drinking alcohol and relaxed. Or at least pretending to be.

"Doing alright, there?" Tony dared ask him, suddenly concerned.

"Shh, I'm undercover," Barnes muttered, glancing shiftily around.

Goddamn, the man was bad at this. How the fuck had he gone undetected for so long? Tony tried not to shake his head in disbelief. "Okay," he agreed gamely. "Can I help?"

"Get me some more juice. I can't let Wilson have any," Barnes told him, totally deadpan.

Tony raised an eyebrow at him.

"My cover depends on it," Barnes added when Tony didn't move for a beat.

Well, okay, then. Tony gave in with a shrug. "Fine. Want it spiked?"

"No."

Such a weirdo. Tony did shake his head, then, but he got Barnes his juice. In the process, though, Sam noticed them and came over to make a scene. "Stop stealing all my juice!" he yelled at Barnes' hastily retreating back, chasing after the former Winter Soldier like a man on a mission.

Tony was left staring after them, baffled, as the faceless crowd seemed to close in around him. Suddenly feeling like he was about to have an anxiety attack, Tony took a shuddering breath. Fucking hell, not _now_. He was in public.

It took a herculean effort, but he managed to break free of the crowd and stumble out onto one of the balconies ringing the floor, the calm night air ruffling his hair and chilling him as it cut right through his pyjamas. It was snowing, small flurries that seemed to dance through the air around him. He barely felt it, though, all his attention focused inward. On the way his heart was suddenly pounding and couldn't seem to take a full breath. On the way he _needed_ a quiet protected corner, and Steve at his back. Fucking hell. Not _now_. The party was far from over, and he couldn't fall apart before it was.

"Tony?" Steve's voice sounded right beside his ear, startling the hell out of him. "Shit, you're not okay. Come on."

He was summarily swept up in Steve's arms, and carried off. It didn't take long for them to hit the elevators, and Tony knew he probably should care about the fact that people would see them, but all he could do was cling to Steve and let himself be bodily removed from the situation. His arms went around Steve's broad shoulders, and then slid down over the planes of his back until they hit Steve's waistband. And he knew he shouldn't be doing that right then, but--

Wait.

He ran his hands down over the ass of Steve's fancy dress pants once more.

Jesus. Those were definitely garters and thigh highs. Tony made a choked sound of want, suddenly far more interested in molesting Steve than talking about what had just happened.

"Tony!"

Steve's voice jolted him, the urgency in it making him open his eyes, and... that was their bedroom ceiling. Steve had hauled him into his arms, sitting with his back against their headboard, and he looked worried. Confused, Tony stared back at Steve in silence as he felt his breathing and heart rate slow.

"You alright? You sounded like you were about to have an anxiety attack in your sleep," Steve told him.

"I-- yeah. I'm fine." Tony forced himself to take a deep breath and ignore the way it felt like it caught in his throat.

Steve huffed at him, very obviously not sure he believed the statement. 

"You saved me and then you were wearing lingerie," Tony blurted out, "and I, well. I liked it?"

Steve went pink. "What?" He asked weakly.

"Goddamn garter belt and stockings. It was hot as fuck." Tony told him.

"Tony! Jesus." Steve hissed as he went redder. "I-- you-- oh my God."

Tony leaned in to kiss him in the hopes that it might calm him down a little. Steve made a tiny pleased sound in the back of his throat, and fell into the touch, suitably distracted. They ended up just sitting there and kissing until they were both in a better -- less stressed -- place. Tony couldn't deny that it was nice. But he did want to know the answer to his question, so he persisted. "Seriously, though. Any chance I could persuade you to try it?" He asked again and ran his hands up Steve's flanks, then drew them around to rest on his chest.

Steve groaned, embarrassed. "I'll think it over," he conceded.

"Good enough," Tony agreed. He'd learned better than to push that limit, if he wanted to have a chance of convincing his lover to try new things. Steve needed to get used to the idea first. "But if you do, can I pick the stockings?"

That got him another groan, and Steve tucked his face into the curve of Tony's neck. "No." He said decisively. "If -- _if_ \-- I do that, it'll be on my terms."

Tony grinned, pleased. That was as good as an admission that Steve liked the idea but wasn't sure how to react to liking it. "Okay," he agreed, and tugged at Steve's hair until his lover raised his head again. "We'll table the idea for discussion at a later date. But I have to tell you this much. I'll definitely be thinking about it a lot for the next few days. Probably especially anytime we're having sex."

Steve huffed at him. "I wouldn't expect any less from you. Now hush and go back to sleep."

There was no way Tony was going back to sleep after that, but he let Steve resettle them so that they were horizontal and closed his eyes anyway.

\------  
[three weeks later]

"Tony?" Steve's voice rang out through the workshop when JARVIS automatically shut off his music and answered the call on speaker, "Where are you hiding?"

From his position under one of his cars -- he'd been idly tinkering with the suspension and transmission -- Tony grinned. Scooting himself out, he answered, "I'm in the 'shop, not hiding. You need something, Cap?"

"Clean yourself up, and get up here," Steve demanded, not answering the question, and hung up.

A bit mystified, Tony decided that, this time, his curiousity outweighed his intrinsic dislike of following orders blindly, and he did as asked. A bit of degreaser had his hands clean enough to wash with soap and water, and then he was in the elevator, tapping his foot a bit impatiently. What the hell was Steve up to? He clearly had some objective in mind that involved Tony. But what? Steve's voice had given away nothing, and there had been no video. He also hadn't specified where he was, so Tony was relying on JARVIS to get him to the right floor.

It wasn't entirely surprising that the doors opened on his penthouse, which he shared with Steve... but Steve was nowhere to be seen, and that was weird.

"Steve?" Tony called as he walked through the foyer and into the open plan living room and kitchen. "What's this all about?"

There was no answer, which was unusual. Tony's eyes narrowed. There had been no alarm sounded, so Steve was fine, but for some reason he wasn't speaking up. "Steve? You alright?" JARVIS would have alerted him if anything was obviously amiss, but there were still situations that might not be strictly okay that also didn't trigger any emergency protocols. A quick glance through the apartments revealed that the light in the bedroom was on, so Tony veered off in that direction, tension rising in him.

He shoved the door all the way open and stopped dead in his tracks, gaping. 

Steve looked caught between amusement and nerves. "Took you long enough," he quipped.

"You-- I-- Holy fuck." Tony stuttered.

Steve was spread out on their bed looking like a goddamn Vanity Fair centerfold. Acres of perfect smooth skin and muscle, broad shoulders and trim waist, hard cock and long lean legs. And all of it highlighted by the most amazing pair of Iron Man red silk stockings and a glittery gold garter belt.

"That's a good reaction, right?" Steve teased him when he said nothing further for a few seconds that seemed to stretch.

Tony shook off as much of his daze as he could to reply. "You have _no fucking idea._ I want to lick you all over and make you come with my mouth, then get you hard again and ride you. Probably more than once."

Chuckling at him, Steve stretched, showing off his figure. "Think you'll last long enough to make me come three times?"

"Guess we'll find out," Tony shot back, hastily stripping off his t-shirt and jeans, and not caring a whit where they landed. He didn't bother taking off his underwear yet. He'd do that later. For now, he needed to have Steve's skin under his lips in a way that transcended simple want. It was almost painful.

Settling himself between Steve's knees and leaning down until they were nose to nose, he held Steve's eyes for a beat and then dove in for a kiss. It was messy and uncoordinated. Their teeth clicked together and Steve accidentally bit down a little too hard when he tried to catch Tony's lip, drawing blood, and they got in each others' way repeatedly, but it was no less amazing for all that. The edge of wild unrestrained desire was more than enough of a turn-on to counteract those imperfections.

When the kiss broke, they stared at one another for a moment, both breathing harder and deeper, and then Tony drew a deep breath and shifted his weight. "You are so much more than I deserve, but I intend to make up for that by making you see stars."

"Tony," Steve tried to protest the idea, but Tony was already moving, cutting off the words by kissing his way down the side of Steve's neck to leave a hickey just above his collarbone. It would only stay there for maybe fifteen minutes, but that was okay.

When Tony let the skin he'd been tormenting go again, Steve groaned deep in his throat. "Tony, come on, more," he demanded.

"Damn right, I'm giving you a hell of a lot more than that," Tony agreed, and started kissing and nipping his way down Steve's torso. His hands, previously locked around the balls of Steve's shoulders, wandered, seeking out and toying with known sensitive spots, as he incrementally approached the act they were both anticipating so keenly. He teased and tormented as much as he dared, then shifted his weight one more time, until he was lying in the cradle of Steve's legs, and used one hand to steady Steve's cock. Catching his lover's eyes and holding them, he licked a broad stripe up the length of Steve's cock.

The move made Steve's hands clench around fistfuls of the blankets, and his hips jerked up involuntarily. Enjoying himself, Tony repeated what he'd done, getting a keening whine out of his lover, then took the head of Steve's cock in his mouth and sucked on it, hollowing his cheeks and using his tongue to press it against the roof of his mouth. The taste of precome seemed to hit him like a punch to the head, and Tony groaned.

That made Steve squirm and swear. "I-- I'm not gonna last if you do that, Tony," he gritted out.

That was perfectly fine with him, Tony decided. He pulled off long enough to reply, "Don't care. Let go, if you want. Let me taste you."

Sliding Steve's cock back into his mouth, he took it deeper, this time, bobbing his head and doing his damnedest to make Steve lose control. The feeling of the garter belt and stockings under his hands was making him _want_. He wanted to taste Steve and make a mess of him. He wanted to ride Steve until he came all over that perfect smooth skin and ruined the garter belt. He wanted to feel the silk against his skin as he moved. With another groan, he worked Steve harder and faster, pushing the buttons he knew Steve loved until Steve was coming with a shout, his back bowing.

It was messy. Tony hadn't been prepared for Steve to actually give in so quickly, and couldn't swallow all of the come, leaving a fairly substantial amount of it to slide down the sides of Steve's cock as Steve fought for air. Pulling his lips off Steve's cock with a lewd pop and cleaning him up with long slow licks, Tony heard him make a sound that almost qualified as a squeak.

Pulling away, he asked, "Too much?"

Steve all but melted into the sheets, boneless. "Tony," was all he said, voice rough.

Well, that was certainly enough to make a man feel smug. "We can stop, if you want," he offered.

Steve gave him an incredulous look and untangled his hands from the sheets. "Good one," he muttered, his hands wrapping around Tony's shoulders and hauling him up until they were nose-to-nose again.

Tony reflexively ground down against his lover with a gasp. "Steve. Steve, I-- wait."

"You want to wait?" Steve teased him, deliberately misunderstanding.

Shaking his head to clear it, Tony pushed himself up on his elbows, putting a few inches of space between himself and the temptation to just rub off on Steve. "I want you inside me when I come," he corrected. "And before you ask, no, those stockings aren't coming off."

The statement got him an amused huff, but Steve obligingly reached for the lube. "Well, alright, but then you'd better not come on my fingers as I open you up," he said agreeably, though he blushed bright red as he did.

That might be easier said than done, Tony knew. Steve loved to drag things out until Tony forced him to move past the prep. "Don't even think about it," he warned. "None of your teasing tonight. I will make sure you regret it."

"You think you can?" Steve asked him, sounding genuinely curious.

"Try me," Tony bluffed. He probably wouldn't actually follow through, even if Steve pushed him, but Steve didn't have to know that. "Now, get your fingers in me, or I'll do it myself."

That finally won him what he wanted. "Fine, fine. Demanding as always," Steve grumbled, but he was smiling as he slicked up his fingers and reached around to do as Tony had demanded.

The feeling of strong fingers and slick trailing over his skin had Tony moaning and squirming. He wanted more. Needed it enough to actively try to get it. He pushed back, hoping to get those teasing fingers to actually do more than rest against his hole.

Steve -- of fucking course -- resisted, moving easily with him. But he only teased just enough to make his point and then he finally started opening Tony up.

Time seemed to stretch and blur, then, the sensory input he was getting sending him into an almost meditative state of mind. It felt so damned good. Heat and touch and the slight sting of his muscles being coaxed loose. Steve had done this enough times to know just how to play him like a fiddle, and Tony didn't mind admitting that. It was paying all kinds of dividends, now, and he loved just being able to lose himself in it.

The next thing Tony was fully aware of was the feeling of emptiness as Steve pulled his fingers free. It made him realise that his eyes had fallen shut without his volition, and he pried them open again. The move took a bit more effort than he'd expected, but when he managed it, Steve's eyes, so dark they looked more black than blue, met his, and the heat he saw there made him bite his lip.

"Steve," he demanded, hearing the hoarse rasp in his own voice, "come on, get in me."

Huffing at him, amused despite the position they were in, Steve followed orders. "Try not to come immediately," he replied. "I was looking forward to trying for more than one."

With that, his hands shifted to wrap around Tony's hips, steadying him and guiding him into a better position for what they both wanted. Shifting to kneel over his boyfriend left the skin of his calves brushing against the silk of those damned stockings and his hands, when they fell to Steve's waist, caught on the garter belt. He couldn't seem to let go, either, for a moment that stretched, and then Steve was urging him to drop his hips, and Tony's hand automatically went around his cock to help him in.

"No promises," Tony gritted out as Steve breached him, sending a sharp shudder up his spine. "You teased for so long. And you look amazing. Feel even better..."

Grinning up at him, very pleased with himself, Steve carefully said nothing. Instead he chose to focus on keeping them lined up just so, making sure that he would hit all of Tony's sensitive spots as he sheathed himself. 

It felt like it took a year, but then Steve had finally bottomed out. They both took a breath, well aware that this probably wasn't going to last long.

Whatever. It was great anyway.

Holding Steve's eyes, Tony waited a few seconds, giving himself just enough time to adjust, and then started moving. Slowly at first, just swiveling his hips and grinding against Steve, then building up the rhythm one stroke at a time until he was fighting for enough air to maintain the pace, and Steve was all but thrashing beneath him.

"Tony! Ohhh." Steve didn't bother holding himself back, either. He just let himself chase his orgasm and when it hit him, he made a keening sound that was so hot it almost yanked Tony over the edge after him. 

Somehow, though, he managed to hold back and keep moving, the sleek feeling of the stockings occasionally catching his attention and sending shocks of arousal through him to pool in the pit of his stomach.

Steve was fighting to catch his breath, still hard and buried deep, and the temptation to lean down to kiss him before he could was just overwhelming, so Tony did just that, forcing Steve to try to breathe through his nose in desperate pants as Tony licked deep into his mouth.

It took them a while to break the kiss, and when they did, Steve's back arched as if it was all too much for him to bear.

"Want one more?" He asked his lover.

Steve groaned, tired. "I-- try it."

He was still hard, so Tony decided to just go for it. Pushing himself upright, he leaned back far enough that he could plant his hands on Steve's legs just above the knee, using the hold for balance and leverage. It left him leaning back and changed the angle enough that he had to bit down hard on his own lip to keep from going off right then and there. The bite Steve had left earlier reopened under the pressure, and it shouldn't have been as amazing as it was, but somehow the reminder of their first kiss of evening only served to make him hotter.

Steve's grip on his hips firmed and he started directing the pace and intensity of their movements. Tony let him, welcoming the help. His muscles were starting to ache and burn with the exertion, and he knew he'd be sore later.

But it was oh so worth it.

They settled into a new rhythm quickly, and though Steve made some almost-pained faces, he didn't stop. Didn't ask, and didn't let Tony slow them back down again. Then, shifting his feet slightly, he threw his head back and lined them up just right so that he could slam himself home with all the force he dared and drive Tony insane with the way it rubbed the cock inside him against his prostate.

It took all of three thrusts before Tony lost his tenuous grip on his control and came hard. He had no idea what he shouted, in the moment, but he knew he said something. Steve flung himself off the knife edge after him, and when Tony was aware of his surroundings again, he was wrapped up in Steve's arms, and they were plastered together from neck to knees. The position was slightly awkward, but he knew it didn't bother Steve one bit.

"So," Tony started, and had to stop to clear his throat. "Want to share a shower?"

Steve raised an eyebrow at him. "You going to let me take off the stockings?"

"I will fucking frame them and hang them on the wall, if you want," Tony told him, meaning every word, "as long as we can do this again sometime."

Laughing at him, Steve prodded him back into a seated position and physically lifted Tony off his dick, before he replied. "On my terms," he reminded Tony.

After the way this had turned out, Tony was perfectly alright with that. Let Steve come at this however he wanted, however he was comfortable doing it. Tony was sure he'd enjoy himself, and intended to make sure Steve did, too. "Fine, I can work with that. Now come on, I want a shower, and you need one, yourself."


End file.
